I know it's technically too late, but this is for @flashfictionfridayofficial this week. (Stupid work stealing all my time!) Very short.
Thunderbirds fandom
Approx 328 words.
“John, we’re out of options, and out of time.” Virgil’s tone brooked no argument as he checked one final time that the boy’s safety line was securely attached to his own harness. “Scott?”
“F. A. B.” was forced out from between Scott’s gritted teeth, as One’s engines strained in the background.
With one solid plant of booted feet on rockface, Virgil pushed off the side of the mountain and activated the quick release mechanism on the now useless winch cable. He held tight to the child clinging to his chest as they plummeted. Even through the helmet he could hear the grinding screech of metal on rock as the weight of the Pod violently shifted at the sudden loss of their weight.
He turned himself in the air and curled his body protectively around the boy in the vain hope he could shield him from impact if the worst were to happen.
Then the welcome scream of engines filled the air and they were no longer falling. Caught by the cargo net stretched out in front of Thunderbird One’s nose cone. Virgil adjusted his position, keeping one arm wrapped around the terrified little boy, and taking a firm hold of the cargo net with his other hand as his big brother slowed his ‘bird and began to ascend away from the jagged rocks of the canyon floor below them, heading for the safety of the plateau where he had needed to leave Thunderbird Two.
“Thanks, Scott,” Virgil panted out in sheer relief.
“Any time, little brother.” The confidence in the commander’s voice was laced with a fair share of relief in return, and something else Virgil wasn’t sure he could identify. “On second thought, maybe don’t try that one again in a hurry. You’re right. It’s not fun watching a self-sacrificing idiot brother make a move like that.”
“I knew you’d catch me, Scott,” barely above a whisper. “I had faith.”
Sophie knew she could fly. Then again, she knew that in the same way that she knew what an apple was. Someone had told her, and she had no reason to doubt them.
Standing at the edge of a cliff, on the other hand, gave her a fairly good reason to stop believing she could fly. Sure, the rest of her family could all fly, soaring over the sky in wings that apparently grew when you needed them. Sure, she'd even watched her older sibling fly just a year ago. But, what if she was different.
The expectant looks from her family grew on her as the seconds passed.
Each ticking of the watch on her wrist felt hours apart.
Finally she gave in. Either she'd fly or she wouldn't.
Sophie leapt off the cliff.
The wind grew louder and louder as she moved faster and faster. The river which had seemed so far away was growing ever larger.
Suddenly she started slowing down. A glance to either side showed her the wings that she knew would come out. It was as though she'd suddenly remembered a long-lost skill, and she flapped her wings, slowing her even more quickly.
(written for @flashfictionfridayofficial‘s prompt: FFF167: Leap of Faith. Not related to anything else I’m working on, but a resurrection of a very old story idea I never finished! Title, quite literally, Sun Wukong’s. Enjoy!)
While there is rather less green and quite a bit more grey, he could see why the humans called cities concrete jungles.
He cackled, throwing himself into a backflip off the streetlamp steel to land on a windowsill. The lamps cast his shadow upon the pavement as he flew, the remaining leaves rustling off branches as he flew. Autumn had always been his favourite time of year, more so now that the Jade Court had bigger things to worry about than his eminent self.
Wukong had thought they had forgotten him, to his indignation. What a horror, to be forgotten! Him, the great monkey god! He had angrily climbed a taller specimen of those buildings the humans had constructed in his absence, only to reach the garden to loud shrieks. It rather turned out that they hadn’t forgotten him, but rather were struggling with bigger issues. Such as getting humans to believe in them again.
He hadn’t quite got their meaning, but apparently, in his absence, there had been a deep erasure of their existence in favour of some other god. He gathered it had been violent and rather miserable, judging by the exhaustion in the farmer’s eyes and the shudder in the tails of the animal spirits he had come across. The forests fluttered sadly to him, the great peach trees of his home mountain reaching joyfully, if fearfully towards him. He had searched, almost frantically, for his old compatriots, the great monkeys of the Mountain, the great rulers of the hill in his absence.
He felt the fear grip his heart, and he understood why they no longer worried about him.
He had found the daughter of a daughter of one of his old advisors. She looked upon his face, fingers reaching gingerly to his staff and the family marks upon his fur. He remembered the way her great-grandmother laughed arrogantly as she threw gods out from the mountain for daring to disturb her rest, and his voice shuddered as he asked her where the rest of them were.
“They hide.”
He had felt a surge of revulsion. What was there to hide from that the mountain could not protect his own? But she had only nodded solemnly, her fingers clenching the same way her ancestor’s had.
“I stayed here to wait.”
And so she told him the story of how the monkeys had gone out, mischief used to defend their forests using mist and the warm waters of streams flowing out from the rivers. But the rivers had dried and the forests burned, and one by one, they had stopped responding to her messages. The forest itself poisoned and the rivers stinging where they once soothed, she told him the story of how her family had been chosen to remain as the strongest and wisest.
The waters of time had long since taught him not to rush off impulsively as the anger, fear, and grief warred in his heart. If he had been younger, he would have drawn his staff immediately, surged off in a burst of wind to the forests to seek out his monkeys. But age had told him to wait and research. To learn more about this new world, to listen to the spells the human now cast, the whispers of the forests until he learnt how best to help those he considered his.
It hadn’t been all gloom. She told him proudly of her younger sister picking the freshest apples from the conqueror’s banquet, throwing them into the air and disappearing in a laugh. She told him of her partner’s twisting the river to throw the humans off balance as they tried to sail down it, calling the current to his will. She told him about her own visit, leaving her young daughter in charge, to the Dragon of the East River.
“Does his palace still miss its pillar?” He asked, laughingly.
“He remembers you. And so does his palace.” Hetao said, responding with a smile of her own.
And he had talked the night away, staying and resting for weeks until he had been ready to reenter the city.
It helped, of course, that he had always been drawn to mischief. He looked at the arching neon sprays of paint across school walls and added rude points of his own. He stole important documents from offices, folding them into flowers and scattering them in mounds across the ground. He threw himself into the air, again and again, seeking the same joy he had once felt in it. He shifted form, bird, fly, mosquito, lion, human, and then monkey again, tricking swans as he dove into lakes as a fish before taking flight.
Wukong sought out the warriors of this time, his staff in hand as he kicked and slashed through fights. He bowed after, of course he did, and he always held back his strength, but it was always just a little bit not enough for him.
He tricked other spirits and demons, but it was no fun.
And all this, he did while he waited, while he learned how to craft an identity for himself to live in this world as he did his research. He learned the new mediums for trickery, shifting himself as easily as he did while alive. It was a fascinating experience, as he remembered fondly how he first learned to shift between forms, as he applied those same lessons to learning new things.
No one believed in his name, but it was no bother. They invoked him casually, teenagers bored out of their minds while stuck in their homes. He deigned to respond sometimes, sparks of magic that shorted out the capillaries of electricity to their places, sudden colour changes to plain facades. But he had learned to listen, and so he did.
What use is constantly leaping, after all, if you don’t know what you’re jumping into?
from @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt "Leap of Faith"
word count: 190
I run down the block, then as I reach the end, jump to the other block. They were a good ten feet apart.
“You’re ready,” Alostry says. He goes to the portal frame, quick runs his hand along it, and a portal appears.
I follow Alostry through, we come out on the top of a cliff. The wind brushes against my arms. Down between this cliff and another a few feet away runs a river. Deep below.
“Jump from this cliff to that one,” Alostry says.
I stand at the edge, try to guess the distance, then back up and start to run. I approach the end of the cliff and stop.
“Have confidence in yourself!” Alostry syas.
I go back and run. And I jump. I reach the other cliff.
“You just have to trust your training,” Alostry says.
The gorge disappears, and Alostry holds up some moss.
“Just an illusion,” he says. “But see, you had confidence!”
I say, “I hate this. You’re asking me to trust myself, but you don’t trust me enough to be honest with the trials. They’re all tricks of one kind or another.”
Prompt | Leap of faith - @flashfictionfridayofficial
Tris and Uzir's first meeting when Tris was a young hopeful, and the start of a wonderful friendship...
Sometimes you just can't physically do a thing and that's okay.
»You’ve got less magic talent than I’ve ever seen in a human.«
The mantis wizard looked at her impassively, as if he hadn’t just said the rudest, most insulting thing Tris could imagine saying to a prospective apprentice. But then, insect faces weren’t given to emote very well.
She didn’t know what to say, so she remained silent, until the wizard continued, »That means I won’t be accepting you as my apprentice, nor should anyone. Anything else?«
Tris opened her mouth. Forced out a, »No. Thank you for your time, sir.« Turned to leave.
She would just go on find another wizard to apply to. She had been apprenticed to a few, now, all eventually signalling her to move on. The last position she quit on her own; she wasn’t learning anything, and she wasn’t fool enough to not realize when she was being taken advantage of.
She had dreamed of learning magic since she was a kid. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, but she was determined. Her friends had all told her she just had to follow her dreams with enough stubbornness, and they would become reality.
No one had ever told her something this cruel.
She turned back around. »How little, exactly?«
»Talent?« The mantis didn’t move. »You will never do noticeable magic. It baffles me you have been apprenticed before. I cannot, in good faith. I would waste your and my time.«
»You mean I should do something else entirely with my life.« Her voice swam in incredulity. She heard her own words like someone else spoke.
»Yes.«
She tried to wrap her mind around it - around building a non-magical life.
Well, not non-magical. But without magic of hers.
»I wanted to help people.« Her voice trembled.
»You won’t do it with magic,« the mantis said, matter-of-factly. And then, after a pause, he added - a little softer, or so Tris imagined - »There are many ways to help people.«
This is a strange poem. It's to broad, too flowy, too little information to read anything specific into it. When I saw the prompt, I knew, I had to write it anyway. Not because it makes sense but because I hoped for it to help me make sense of the mess I call my life at the moment... It might help, it might not – for now it has been written.
[ID: A rectangle with diagonal slashes of pink and orange over a grey background. The text “#FFF167 LEAP OF FAITH” is in black in the foreground. /END ID]
The ferry bumped up to the dock, nudging Lin out of her all-too-brief reverie. She inhaled as she straightened from the city-facing railing and braced herself for Meelo and Rohan’s over-enthusiastic welcomes.
“Chief, everyone else is off. I won’t be heading back for an hour or so. No one is waiting to go back, though there’s an acolyte waiting for you.” She nodded her thanks at the captain, all while wondering which acolyte would be bothered to meet her at the dock when they knew she was coming up to the house.
Once she stepped around the deck house, she froze.
Pema.
She allowed herself to grumble for three steps before just settling her face into her usual scowl.
“Pema,” she said before catching the very strange look on the acolyte’s face.
“There’s news about dinner, and I wanted to give you a little warning.” She stepped back as Lin disembarked, and gestured toward the Thousand Steps. They began climbing in silence, but Lin’s relief was short-lived.
“Kya showed up about an hour ago.”
Lin’s heart fluttered, and she gave a quick cough. “Is that so? Is that what you’re warning me about? We’ve been friends for years.” She pointedly kept her eyes level, staring straight ahead at the stairs.
“She said hello, but then shut herself in her room. The girls banged on her door, but haven’t gotten any response.” From the corner of her eye, Lin could see Pema waiting for a reaction.
“She didn’t seem hurt or anything, in case you’re worried about that.”
Lin scoffed. “Why would I be worried? She can care for herself just fine. Has been for years.”
Pema suddenly leaned against Lin’s shoulder, chuckling. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
Lin stopped. “Noticed, what, exactly?” she asked in her coldest tones, before resuming her climb, leaving Pema stalled behind her.
Pema startled her by laughing as she took a few more steps up. “Get off it, Lin. You’re not such a closed book as you like to think. I’ve watched you watching her. She asks about you, you ask about her… You’re here more when she’s staying for a visit.” Lin looked back over her shoulder at Pema.
“Lin, I know this is going to sound strange, I know you’re going to want to explode all over me, but this is what I think you need to hear.” Lin turned to face the younger woman, who had balled up her fists in a power stance that would have been cute on a four-year-old earth bender.
“You need to take a leap of faith.”
Lin creased her brows. “I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”
Pema crossed her arms. “I’m sure you know exactly what I mean.”
Lin crossed her arms aggressively. “I don’t.”
“Then I’ll spell it out for you. Tell Kya you love her, or so help me, I’ll start scheming for real.”
Lin gaped.
Pema continued, “When I did the same thing, it was terrible and wrong. I was a child and acted in a childish way. I’m sorry for that.” She sighed, and dropped her arms.
“I’m not sorry for marrying Tenzin or having children with him. Our children are a blessing, and they happened because I took my own leap of faith. I’m only sorry that I hurt you in the process.”
Lin snapped her mouth shut and stormed up the stairs.
Even on the wooden stairs, Lin could tell that Pema had not charged after her.
Just below the final reach of stairs, Lin retracted her boot and kicked at the side of the mountain, searching the surroundings for who was where. When she saw what she wanted to see, she took a deep breath and bent her head.
Pema had climbed up until she was just outside of the reach of Lin’s hands (though not her cables). She barely heard Pema ask, “Lin? How angry are you?”
Lin just stood there for a moment. She took a deep breath before turning around and stepping down to face the woman who had changed the course of her life, so many years before.
“Pema, I’m not angry. It’s about fifteen years late, but I accept your apology. Because I can see that you put your faith in me with no guarantee how I would react.” She searched Pema’s face, but would never know what for.
And then she climbed the rest of the stairs, leaving Pema alone.
As her head came level with the courtyard, she heard Kya’s exclamation. She turned to see her new favorite person come running from the house.
She spread her arms in welcome.
Kya ran forward for a kiss and an embrace. As Pema passed them, Lin gave her a tiny nod.
Lin took a sharp breath, stepped back, and extended her hand to Kya, leading her away to the gardens.
